


Truth

by Mordhena



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Additional Warnings Apply, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, M/M, Past Rape/Non-con, Self-Harm, Sexual Content, Triggers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-29
Updated: 2017-10-29
Packaged: 2019-01-26 02:11:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,380
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12546508
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mordhena/pseuds/Mordhena
Summary: I thought I had lost this story. It is actually probably about the secondSPN fanfiction I ever wrote, and yes, it has a vision in it from Sam that I never really went anywhere with--sorry.I thought I would post it here just because I am so thrilled to have found it.It's set not long after the events of "In My Time of Dying"The boys are early in their incestual relationship and both of them are in dark places, particularly Dean who feels responsible for John Winchester's death.It contains possible triggers, people, so proceed with caution.





	Truth

**Author's Note:**

> I thought I had lost this story. It is actually probably about the second   
> SPN fanfiction I ever wrote, and yes, it has a vision in it from Sam that I never really went anywhere with--sorry.
> 
> I thought I would post it here just because I am so thrilled to have found it.
> 
> It's set not long after the events of "In My Time of Dying"
> 
> The boys are early in their incestual relationship and both of them are in dark places, particularly Dean who feels responsible for John Winchester's death.
> 
> It contains possible triggers, people, so proceed with caution.

Dean Winchester stormed out of the bar with his brother close on his heels. "I can’t believe you even said that, Sam!" He shot his brother a look over his shoulder. "What'd you say it for anyway?"

Sam laughed. "What's your problem, Dean? It's not like I never called you a control freak before." He made his way to the passenger side of the Impala and waited for Dean to let him in. "C'mon, man! It's cold out here," he complained when Dean took his own sweet time.

They drove in silence back to their hotel and Dean stalked into the room without a word, almost smacking Sam in the face with the door which he kicked shut behind him.

"Hey!" Sam scowled. "Get over it, will ya? You don't seriously think any of those guys was interested!"

"I'll never know now, will I?" Dean rounded on the younger Winchester and his brows drew together as realization dawned. "You did that on purpose!" he said. He stalked Sam, closing the distance between them. "You're jealous!"

"Of  what?" Sam was still laughing, and Dean wanted to knock the grin off his face. He ground his teeth and turned away. Taking off his jacket, he tossed it over the back of a chair. "You can't stand the thought that I might get a chance at some nookie with someone other than you."

"Oh, go to hell," Sam shook his head. "I'm not jealous. There was nothin' to _be_ jealous of!" He paused, "except, maybe the fact that they have some kind of normalcy in their lives."

"That again?" Dean sighed. "You know we can't have that, Sammy."

"Yeah, right. The family business—everything has to be kept in the family." Sam's tone was bitter and Dean closed his eyes. He didn't want to get into this just now.

"You wanna walk away, Sammy? Go on and do it. I won't stop you." Dean sank down on the end of the bed. "I'm just as tired of this shit as you are."

"Oh, sure-and you won't stop huntin' and you'll get your sorry ass killed and I'll have to live with that. Thanks, but no thanks. I have enough guilt to carry around without that." Sam turned his face away and Dean heaved a sigh, dragging himself to his feet. He moved to his brother's side, laid a hand on his shoulder.

"I'd just like to feel a little bit of what normal is—just for a little while," Sam whispered.

"I know, Sammy. You think I don't want that, too?" Dean swallowed hard and let out a breath. "You're all I've got left."

"Did it ever occur to you, that it's the same for me?" Suddenly angry, Sam rounded on him. "Do you ever even consider that when you go and take stupid risks? When you shut me out, when you continuously push me away and refuse to talk to me about…"

Dean swung away with a short, bitter laugh. "Don't do this, Sam!"

"Yeah, that amuses you, doesn't it, you selfish son of a bitch!"

"It's fucking stupid to talk about not taking risks, man! Our whole lives are just one risk after another!"

"You know what I mean!" Sam yelled and pointed to the door. "There's stuff out there that we should never go near! We shouldn't have got anywhere near that reaper! Fuck, Dean I nearly lost you twice in the one week!"

"Hey! I didn't go after that chick, dude; _she_ came looking for me first!"

"What?" Sam took several steps closer to him, right into his personal space. "You told me you didn't remember anything about that!"

Dean swung away, and scrubbed the palm of one hand across his face. _Fuck!_

"What, so is lying to me something new Bro or is there more?"

_Yeah, there's more. There's a whole lot more, Sammy, but I ain't tellin' you that._

Dean growled when his brother's fist connected with his shoulder. He balled his own fist and swung round. Sam punched him again, not hard, but it goaded him. "I'm warnin' you Bro," Dean muttered.

"Of what?" Sam shoved him.

"Don't go digging for things you don't need to know!"

"I _don't_ need you to protect me, Dean!" Sam shoved him again, harder and Dean stumbled backwards. He rebounded an instant later, shoving Sam in return. "All right, you have to know? Okay! Take a seat little brother. I'll tell you a bedtime story!" He shoved Sam onto the bed and loomed over him. When Sam attempted to get back up, Dean got right in his face. "I swear to God, Sammy, you don't siddown I'm gonna knock you down!"

"Back off!" Sam snarled, but he stayed on the bed.

Dean drew a deep breath struggling to rein in the dark anger he felt boiling in his gut. "Okay," he said with a sigh. "I _do_ remember." He met his brother's eyes. "We were out on the road in the Impala. Dad was with us. We were cruising and talking and it was… you know, just family, it was okay."

Frowning at him, Sam shook his head. _Okay and our family are a million miles apart,_ he thought. "Go on," he said with a small gesture.

"I think I remember hittin' my head. It didn't hurt that much. I thought something might have hit us. The next thing I know I wake up in bed, and I'm thirsty. That's the first thing I thought of, was how thirsty I was. So…I'm looking around and I get the feeling, we're not in Kansas anymore." Dean smirked.

Sam rolled his eyes. "Fuck, Dean, do you have to bring everything down to comic book level?"

"It's my story, Sammy, I'll tell it how I like and you can shut your cakehole!" Sam nodded and Dean went on.

"I got out of bed to try and find a glass of water. I was lookin' for you and dad, too—calling you. It all gets a little hazy from there on. I don't know if I remember it in the right order." Dean frowned in thought for a moment and then told Sam of how he had wandered the hallways, trying to get someone's attention and eventually gone back to his room.

"It was weird, Sam. I was standing there, looking at myself lying in that bed and I wanted back in there. I wanted that, but I couldn't figure out how to do it. There was some kinda wall or something I couldn't see it, but I could sure as hell feel it; a resistance that I couldn't push through." He closed his eyes. "Then I saw you come in and I was talking to you." He looked up, meeting his brother's eyes. "For a dude who says he's psychic, you sure had on a good case of normal that day. I couldn't make you hear me! You wouldn't look at me. All you did was stand beside my bed, starin' and cryin'." Shakes his head.

"I don't _say_ I'm psychic, asshole. I just see things," Sam replied.

"Yeah…whatever. When you weren't cryin' over my broken body," Dean placed a hand over his heart as he spoke. "You were yellin' and cussin dad out." He scowled at his baby brother.

Sam bowed his head, avoiding eye contact. "I'm not proud of that, Dean. If I'd known…"

"I was there in the room when you were fighting. You asked him 'what kind of a father are you?'  I yelled at you both to quit! There was something big going on, and all you two could do was cuss each other. I got so goddamned mad I slammed my fist into the glass of water on dad's table and sent that mother flying to the floor. You remember that?"

"I saw the tumbler smash," Sam replied.

"Yeah, and even then you still didn't get it!"

"Fuck, Dean, it was a glass of water, what was there to get? I didn't know that was you! I dunno, maybe I thought _I_ did it." He rubbed at his eyes, keeping his head down.

Dean shrugged and closed his eyes. "Anyway, right after that I felt something pulling at me. I felt phased out. I was… _scared_. I didn't know what was happening to me. Then alarms started going off out in the hallway and dad told you to go see what was going on."

"Yeah, I remember that," Sam said. His eyes darkened with pain at the memory and he swallowed hard.

"I went with you," Dean went on. "I wanted to see what was happening and besides, I was being pulled in that direction anyway. We got to my room. You were ahead of me, and I came up beside you. You thought no-one could hear. You were being quiet, but I heard you, Sammy." Dean paused and bit his lip. "You were holding onto the door post, leaning against it, and you were saying… 'Dean, Dean, please, c'mon, Dean." He closed his eyes, feeling his heart wrench with the remembered pain in Sam's voice.

"You heard that?" Sam's voice was soft with something resembling awe.

Dean nodded, tears welling in his eyes. "I heard you as clear as if you were yelling, Sammy. And that's when I saw _her_. It was fuckin' freaky, man! All these doctors and nurses around the bed, working on the body... _my_ body—and this _thing_ hovering over me with its hand inside my chest, holding my heart so it wouldn't beat."

"Holy shit," Sam muttered.

"I got pissed. That bitch was tryin' to fucking kill me. I ran at her and I yelled: get away from me! She just kept squeezing my heart, so I made a grab for her. I screamed I SAID GET BACK!"

Sam swallowed. "So that _was_ you? I thought I heard…"

As though he hadn't heard, Dean continued the story. "She looked at me, and then...man...then she swung her arm and slammed me back against the wall. I've never been hit like that in my life. It knocked all the strength right out of me. And then, she left." Dean sank down in a chair, rubbing his face with both hands.

"I'm sorry, Dean. I…we…didn't know."

"It didn't end there, Sammy boy." Dean raised reddened eyes to his brother's face. "I saw her take two others. A beautiful young woman—she choked to death right in front of me, and I couldn't do a damned thing! And then…the worst one. A little girl."

Both brothers were silent for several minutes, each alone with his personal memories and hurts from that fraught time in the hospital. Dean got to his feet, pacing the room a few times and then he turned to look at Sam.

"She came back to me, after that. She'd changed her form, appeared to me as a pretty young girl named Tessa. I didn't realize it, at first, but she eventually gave herself away." Dean sighed. "I bargained for my life, Sammy. I told her you and dad needed me, that we're fighting a war, that I couldn't leave…she wouldn't hear any of my arguments. She just looked at me with these big sad eyes and said: 'The war is over for you, Dean.' I should've listened to her. I should have gone with her right then and there. Hell, she was just doin' her job. That was her hospital."

"No!" Sam jumped to his feet. "Don't talk like that, Dean! It was not your time; we didn't ask for this, this is Dad's war, not ours! We just got caught up in it, and it'll never end!"

"You don't know what the hell you're talking about!" Dean rounded on him. "She was…she was pure, Sam! She was good…she…" He choked and looked away.

"So now I owe you, is that it? You missed your chance in heaven so you could stay with me?"

"No." Dean shook his head vehemently. "She was so beautiful and then that _bastard_ got inside of her and…twisted her into something evil…vile. Because of _me!"_

"It wasn't your fault," Sam countered. "You did what you had to do."

"No, Sam. What I had to do right then, was _die._ If I'd gone with her the first time, or even the second, Dad would still be alive, and Tessa wouldn't have been possessed. _"_

"And I'd be alone," Sam murmured.

"You wouldn't be alone, Sam. Dad would be here."

"Oh come on, Dean! Dad has _never_ been there! He's been at war my whole life. You know he and I wouldn't have lasted five minutes without you to keep us from fighting. No. I'd be alone, and so would he…you did the right thing, Dean."

"I'm not so sure of that, Sammy." Dean said. "Ever since then…there's something dark inside of me. When he possessed her, Tessa turned and put her hand on my head. 'It's your lucky day, kid,' she said...I felt it touch me...deep inside."

"No…"

"It was…power," Dean's voice trembled. "We can't stand up against that kind of power, Sam. Not without Dad and not without the colt. The Demon knew it, too. He said a million things to me in a split second and then I woke up and I knew…it's too late." He met his brother's eyes. "Dead things should stay dead."

"You're not dead!"

"It's all so simple in your world, isn't it, Sammy?"

"Look, it's time to move on, Dean! What happened happened. You're here now and Dad's gone and we've got to finish the job for him. There's a sack full of ways to end it right now, if that's what you want!" he said, pointing to the bag of weapons on the floor.

"I can't," Dean said. He remembered their father's last words to him.

_"I want you to promise me you'll look out for Sammy."_

_"Yeah, Dad, you know I will."_

_John Winchester leaned close to his eldest son's ear, whispering. "Save him, Dean, if you can. If you can't, though…you'll have to kill him."_

"I'm stuck here now, until the end."

"Then fucking live!" Sam muttered.

Turning empty eyes to Sam, Dean nodded. "I'll try."

 _Anger and agony_  
Are better than misery   
Trust me I've got a plan   
When the lights go off you will understand   
  
Pain, without love   
Pain, I can't get enough   
Pain, I like it rough   
'Cause I'd rather feel pain than nothing at all   
Pain, without love   
Pain, I can't get enough   
Pain, I like it rough   
'Cause I'd rather feel pain than nothing   
Rather feel pain   
  
I know (I know) I know (I know) I know   
That you're wounded   
You know (You know) you know (you know)   
That I'm here to save you   
You know (You know) you know (you know)   
I'm always here for you   
I know (I know) I know (I know) I know   
That you'll thank me later.  
(Three Days Grace—Pain)

Sam Winchester was hurting. It was an ache that had been with him for days. Ever since Dean had told him in vivid detail, his side of the story of what happened while Dean was dying in the hospital. It hurt Sam to think that Dean had witnessed those arguments with John. It was bad enough, carrying the guilt of the way he had treated their father, without knowing that he had hurt Dean at the same time.

Sam looked at his brother across the table. Dean was absorbed in the local paper. _Looking for another hunt, another excuse to push the real issues further away._ Sam sighed and Dean glanced up from the paper.

"What?"

"Nothing."

"Hmm." Dean's eyes flicked back to the page he was reading.

Muttering a curse, Sam got up and left the diner. He walked over to the Impala and leaned his forearms on the shiny black roof of the car. Biting his lips he stared out across an open field opposite the mom and pop establishment that had served them for lunch. _I can't take much more of this,_ he thought. _I need him to let me in. I can't cope when he opens up a chink like that and then slams it shut in my face again. I'm gonna go mad before long._

"Yo, Sam!" Dean's voice pulled him from his thoughts. "I got a call from Ellen. We’re movin'." Dean said, swinging into the Impala and starting her up.

"Right." Sam got into the car. He winced when Dean pushed a cassette into the deck, blasting the cabin with Metallica. The music was too loud for conversation, so Sam decided to bide his time. They were at least two days away from the Roadhouse anyway. There'd be other opportunities to pin Dean down.

\--

"Did Ellen say what this is about?" They had stopped to buy sandwiches for dinner and sat in the Impala, outside the small store.

Dean looked over at Sam and then shook his head. "No. She just told me that we had better bust ass over to her place," he replied. "He glanced back at the submarine sandwich he held in his hands and grimaced.  "At least we might get a decent meal there." He stuffed the sandwich back into its wrapper.

Sam grinned. "I told you you shoulda gone with the ham and cheese." He offered his brother half of the sandwich he was eating.

"Thanks," Dean bit into the sandwich and made an appreciative sound. "You were right," he conceded.

"It's almost dark." Sam looked towards the setting sun. "Maybe we oughta find a place to spend the night."

"I do declare, you just propositioned me," Dean grinned and then sobered at the look Sam gave him. "Geeze, lighten up!" he shook his head. Yeah, we'll get out of the town a little, find a motel." Finished with the sandwich, Dean brushed crumbs off the front of his shirt and turned the key in the ignition.

The motel was just like any one of a thousand they must've stayed in over the years. Maybe they'd even stayed in this one before. Sam thought as he looked around the room. _Definitely not in this room though._ He eyed the king-sized bed with a raised eyebrow, looking askance at Dean when he came in with their bags.

"It was only five dollars more than a single per night," Dean explained. "I figured I'd give your lanky ass some space for a change."

"Huh!" Sam scoffed. "I'm not lanky. I'm just…"

"Lanky," Dean finished, shoving his brother out of his way. "I call first shower and I'm sleepin' closest to the door!"

"Dammit," Sam lunged after Dean, and grabbed the back of his jacket. "You can have the door, but I'm showering first!"

They scuffled playfully until Dean relented. "All right, get your _lanky_ ass into the shower," he said, still laughing.

\--

Somewhere in the night, Dean woke, heart racing, senses twitching. He'd heard, or felt something—couldn't place it. He got up on his elbows, looking around the room. Sam wasn't beside him. Dean frowned, glanced towards the bathroom. "Sam?"

There was the sound of movement off to his left. Reaching under his pillow, Dean closed his fingers around the butt of the Glock. "Who's there?" he demanded, cocking the pistol, levelling it in the direction of those sounds.

"Whoa!" Sam's voice replied. "Easy Dean, you don't need to smoke my ass!"

"What the hell are you doing sitting over there in the dark?" Relaxing his defensive posture, Dean disarmed the pistol and put it down. "Might've killed you!" He chided.

"I couldn't sleep and I didn't want to disturb you," Sam said. He moved to sit on the bed. "You should get some more rest."

"So should you." Dean looked at him pointedly. "C'mon." He patted the pillow next to his own, his tone brooking no argument.

Sam lay down, but he showed no signs of being ready to sleep. Lying on his back, he turned his head to look at his brother. "Dean?"

"Yeah?" The elder Winchester blinked his eyes open again, focussing on Sam's face close to his. He half smiled. "What is it?"

"I can't stop thinkin', you know, about the other night. About…the things you told me."

Dean drew a deep breath and rolled onto his back, staring up at the ceiling. "See, this is why I don't wanna do this, Sam. You say you wanna talk, and then after we talk, you obsess over it for a week!"

"I know it bugs you, dude. You think it's any easier on me? I just don't have the ability to shrug things off the way you do!"

"It's easy; you give your brain something else to work with."

Sam shook his head, closing his eyes. "It's not that simple, Dean," he said. "We didn't talk, anyway. You talked and I listened. I didn't get the chance to voice my side of things."

"Jesus, Sammy, let it rest!" Dean got up off the bed and went to the small refrigerator, pulling out a can of beer. He popped the can and thudded down in a chair. "You're payin' for this," He waved the can in Sam's direction. "You wanna drive me t'drink, you can foot the bill."

"Ya know, in the real world? The one outside this room, the one that _most_ people live and move and work in, my needin' to talk about the shit that's happened to us lately would be normal…it'd be encouraged." Sam moved to sit on the edge of the bed, facing his brother. "Can't you even give me that much?"

Dean glared at Sam and took a slug of the beer. It tasted bitter in the back of his throat and he shivered. "I told you, I can't give you 'normal,' Sam. I don't know what that is. Our normal might be different to the rest of the world. I hunt, I kill things that other people never even see, and I look out for you. I can't be your fucking counsellor too!"

Bowing his head, Sam knuckled his eyes. _I won’t give him the satisfaction of seeing that got to me!_ He furiously fought back the threatening tears. He took a deep breath and got to his feet. "Yeah, you hunt, and you look out for me…you fucking save the world every day of the week. Hoorah for the big man, Dean Winchester—All hail to the mighty fucking warrior who's so strong and brave that he can't face a normal fucking _conversation_ about…" Sam trailed off as Dean scrambled to his feet, facing off to him. "What?" He sneered at Dean. "Gonna let your fists do your talking for you? What else is new?"

Dean backed off a pace or two, shaking his head. "So help me, Sam…"

"Oh c'mon then, if that's the way you want it." Sam lashed out with his left fist, connecting a solid punch with Dean's arm. "I can take you, even with my arm in a cast!" Sam lunged again, this punch catching Dean on the cheek.

  
"Arright, that's it!" Dean shoved him. "Y'liitle shit! I promised Dad I'd look out for you, but there's a limit, even to _my_ patience!" 

"So I'm a _little_ shit, now? A few hours ago, you were calling me _lanky_." There was no humour in this jibe, Sam swung, and would have caught Dean a good one had his brother not ducked. Slightly off balance, Sam stumbled, but used the momentum to his advantage, ducking low and tackling his brother to the floor.

"Dammit, get offa me!" Dean yelled, struggling to get loose.

"I'm sick of it, ya hear me? Sick of the whole sorry fucking mess this has become." Sam punched Dean in the face, repeating the blow, keeping his injured hand out of it, this time, but landing heavy punches on Dean's face.

Dean didn't fight back. He lay passively on the floor, protecting his face the best he could with his forearms. _Keep it comin' Bro, get me good and mad and then I might just forget about my promise to Dad._

"They think we're freaks! I see it in people's eyes. Ellen, Jo, Ash; they all think we're…" Sam's blows were getting weaker, but his temper was no less heated. He pulled his fist back for another shot.

 _Enough!_ Dean reacted suddenly, lashing out and catching Sam across the bridge of his nose with his forearm. "I _said_ get off me!" he snarled.

Sam reeled backwards, putting a hand to his nose as tears streamed from his eyes. "Bastard!" He sobbed.

"Fucking psycho!" Dean stared up at his brother. "You wanna kill me, Sam? I already told you once, do it. Only you'd better do a damned good job, cause if you don't…"

"Asshole! Just leave me the fuck alone." Taking one last swipe at his brother, Sam tried to move away.

"I'm not the one who threw the first punch, Sam! You wanna get rough, I'll take you anytime you like. He rolled flipping Sam onto his back and straddling him. "This way—or moaning on your hands and knees." Dean started to unbutton Sam's shirt.

"What?" Sam struggled. "No that's not what I…"

"Don't fucking lie to me, Sam. You want it as much as I do…can't recall forcing you, _ever_!" He grabbed at Sam's wrists when his brother tried to push him away. Leaning forward he pinned Sam's hands to the floor above his head. "There's no normal for us, Sammy. We missed the last bus to Dullsville." He swooped to lick a fleck of blood from Sam's bitten lips.

"Fuck, Dean!" Sam's struggles became earnest now. "Let me up!"

"Okay…" Dean let go Sam's wrists and rolled off him, moving to sit on the floor, shoulders against the side of the bed. He let his head fall back, and closed his eyes.

"Even this," Sam said after a moment. "This thing between us—why's it always have to be so angry?"

"'Cause we're just a couple of angry young men," Dean replied. "You know I don't do chick flick moments, Sammy."

"It hurts, Dean." Sam wiped at his bleeding lip, pressing to stem the bleeding.

"What?" Dean's head snapped around and he stared at his brother. "Whaddya mean? I'd never intentionally hurt you…well; apart from beating your ugly face in when you deserve it." He dropped the half joking tone, "fuck, Sam if I hurt you when we…when...well…you fucking didn't say so!"

"I didn't want to say anything. I…was afraid you'd break the only physical contact we have, if I did."

"Ah, Jesus, Sam!" Dean palmed his face.

"Don't tell me you don't know I need it as much as you do!" Sam got to his knees, reaching out to touch Dean's face."

"I know…" Dean closed his eyes. "I know, we both need that side of things in some…crazy way. Not if it hurts you, though."

"We're both screwed up, Dean." Sam sighed, hitching closer to his brother. "Just once," he whispered, "without knockin' the shit out of each other first, without bein' off our heads on booze."

Dean turned his face away. "You want me to treat you like a girl, dude?"

"No." Sam sighed, shook his head. "Just forget it, Dean."

"Look, I know I'm an asshole," Dean said. "I know I say things that get under your skin, I know I act in ways you wish I wouldn't." _Fuck, this is getting' way too soppy!_ "I can't help the way I am, Bro. Dad; you know…he brought us up rough. I know he used to knock you around when you were a kid. He did me, too. He had to Sammy. He knew what we'd have to face and he wanted us strong. I don't _know_ any other way."

"You're right," Sam replied. "You know what? Just forget I said anything. Okay?" He got back onto the bed.

 "Fine," Dean said, closing his eyes. "I'll forget it, if you insist." Getting to his feet, he stumbled into the bathroom and splashed cold water on his face. He glanced up and caught sight of his reflection in the mirror. Staring into his own eyes, he frowned. _Who are you? I don't even know you anymore._

When Dean came out of the bathroom, Sam was in bed, rolled up in the covers with his back to the door. Dean glanced at him and then looked towards the door. Picking up his jacket from the chair he'd slung it over, he pulled his car keys out of the pocket.

"Where you goin'?" Sam asked and Dean stopped on his way to the door, half turning back towards the bed. "I uh…I got something I gotta do," he said. When there was no reply, Dean walked to the door. "I won't be long." He let himself out, closing the door softly behind him.

 --

Sam lay in bed for a few minutes after Dean had gone, but then something made his senses tingle uncomfortably. He'd distinctly heard Dean take the car keys out of his pocket before he left the room, but Sam had not heard the engine start up, or the customary howling of tires to announce Dean's departure. He sat up, frowning at the motel room door for a moment, and then, muttering to himself, he reached for his shoes and socks.

Dean walked out of the motel room and moved to stand beside the Impala. He smiled, running his hands over the shiny black paintwork. She was a work of art, and probably in better condition since he'd rebuilt her, than she had been in a while. "Hey, Baby," he whispered, putting the key into the lock and opening the door. Easing himself in behind the wheel, Dean ran a hand over the leather seat. Here's my sweet girl, huh?" he whispered. His hand slid down over the seat, reaching under where he was sitting, fingertips feeling for a bundle he had hidden there.

"C'mon, sweetheart, let me have it," he coaxed. His finger closed over the cloth wrapped object, and he drew it out. Laying the bundle in his lap, he unwrapped it. Dean swallowed hard, staring at the large bowie knife. He picked it up and turned it over in his hands, mesmerised as the blade caught light from the motel car park, flashing silver-blue. He bit his lip and tugged at his shirt, baring his side.

\--

Fumbling, cursing in his haste, Sam struggled to get his shoes on and tie the laces _C'mon, idiot, time's tickin' by._ An odd sense of foreboding told him that Dean was in trouble, but commonsense told him he'd be no good barefoot if he had to walk—or run—any distance. He cursed, his fingers trembling. _More haste and less speed, Sam, Get some focus!_

"Fuck! What the hell are you askin' of him anyway?" Sam finally got the shoe tied and moved to the other one. "Just a semblance of normalcy, Dean, is that too much to ask?"

\--

Dean ran his fingers lovingly along the blade and closed his eyes for a moment. Slowly, he brought the tip of the knife to the skin of his chest, a little below the two healing cuts he'd made previously. It was cold on his skin. Dean sucked in a breath, tensing, applying pressure. His breath quickened and there was a burst of bright, white light behind his eyes as he felt the knife slip into his skin. He released a small cry of relief, letting his head fall back against the car seat. "Sssssshiiit!" He drew a short, straight, bloody line over his skin and he let out a shuddering breath. The knife fell from his slackened fingers.

\--

"Dean?" Sam stood at the open door of the hotel room, his eyes quickly scanning the small car park. There didn't appear to be anything out of the ordinary. His eyes went to the impala, the driver's door was open, and Sam could dimly make out the form of his brother, low in the seat, head thrown back. Even from here, he could discern the rapid, harsh breathing. Sam called his brother's name making his way to the car.

What he saw made him freeze in his tracks. Dean was bleeding from an ugly looking wound in his side. _Oh shit, he's been shot or…_ He raced to Dean's side, taking in the wound, the bloodied knife lying on top of a bloodstained cloth in his lap. Sam felt his blood run cold. "Fuck!"

Dean's head rolled weakly on the seat. He made a sound like a sob. "I'm sorry," he whispered. "Dad…so sorry…I'm weak."

"Dean!" Sam hunkered down beside the car, inspecting the damage. "Fuck, you're cutting yourself? What kinda sick stunt? Oh, fuck." Sam grabbed the cloth in Dean's lap and then tossed it aside. _It's filthy!_ He took his own shirt off and pressed it against the wound. "You sick sonofabitch! What're you trying to do to me, Dean?"

"Leave it alone, Sam!" Dean suddenly focussed on him. "Let it bleed…even better gimme some salt!"

"What? No!" Sam grabbed the elder Winchester's arm and hauled him out of the car. "Get out of the fucking car, Dean. Now!"

"All right, all right," Dean's voice sounded a little slurred. "I'm feeling kinda sleepy…must've gone a little deep this time."

Sam ground his teeth, saying nothing as he managed to get Dean to his feet, draping one of Dean's arms across his own shoulders. "Are you trying to make me crazy? Walk!" He half dragged, half carried Dean's bulky frame back into the motel. "Jesus, hell…fucking…" He got Dean into the bathroom and shoved him none too gently against the wall. "Wait there. I'll be back."

"Hey, Sammy?" Dean called after him. "Go and lock the car, would ya?"

Ignoring his damn fool brother, Sam made his way back out to the car, reaching into the back seat for the first aid kit. _I'll kill him…I swear…_  Sam pressed the locking mechanism and closed the door, making his way back to Dean, who had slumped to the floor while Sam was gone.

"Get up!" Sam grabbed his brother, roughly shaking him. "Come on, Dean. Sit here." He managed to get Dean sitting on the toilet. "Let me look at that cut."

Dean leaned back, resting his head against the wall. He drew a sharp breath when Sam dabbed at the wound with cotton soaked with antiseptic. He looked down, watching Sam work, and sang softly and off key. "When everything feels like the movies, yeah ya bleed just to know you're alive." He winced when Sam dabbed a little harder at the wound. "That song, Sammy, that's so fucking true."

"Shut up, Dean."

"It looks, deep, Dean noted, might want a stitch…"

"It'll be fine, it just needs a dressing. Fuck, Dean all those other cuts…I thought they were from our hunts. How long have you been doing this?"

"No…not that long," Dean shook his head. "Only…" he frowned.

"This one," Sam said, ghosting his fingers over the cut he'd noticed a few days ago on Dean's chest. "And this? And this?" He glared up at Dean. "What the hell d'you think this achieves?"

"It makes me feel…" Dean trailed off and closed his eyes, letting his head fall back against the wall again. " _You_ wouldn't understand," he said. "I thought you woulda figured it out before now." Dean laughed softly. "All those times I deliberately stirred a fight. Hell, once I even came right out and asked you to hit me."

"Yeah, like I would be lookin' for my brother to be cutting on himself. Sam scowled, cutting a strip of gauze and folding it into a pad before applying over the wound and securing it with tape. "There. That oughta hold it."

"Thanks, nurse," Dean snarked.

"Dean…" Sam got up on his knees "You know you scare the shit outta me when you pull crap like this?" He put a hand on Dean's cheek and leaned in to ghost a kiss across his brother's lips. "You're right, I _don't_ understand. I don't get why you'd want to hurt yourself like this. He looked into Dean's eyes, searching for an answer but only saw the empty sadness that haunted Dean’s gaze so often these days. Shaking his head, Sam got up and pulled Dean to his feet. "Come on, let's get you to bed."

Dean got to his feet, but resisted when Sam tried to lead him to the bedroom. "Do that again, Sammy."

"What?"

"Kiss me." Dean pulled him closer, seeking his mouth and gave a little moan when their lips met. He kissed Sam deep and hard, tongue probing his brother's mouth.

Sam pulled away after a moment. "Don't leave me, Dean?"

"I'm not goin' anywhere, Bro," Dean replied, except maybe the bedroom. No matter how sexy you are, Sam. I'm not gonna do you in a bathroom."

Sam swallowed hard and nodded. "Okay, but…maybe you should wait a while? I… you could reopen that wound, I…"

"That's the way I want it, Sam."

Letting out a long breath, Sam turned and walked into the bedroom with Dean behind him. He stopped when Dean's hands came to rest on his bare shoulders. Closing his eyes, he leaned back against Dean, moaning softly. Dean reached around Sam's waist and his hands roved over Sam's chest, fingernails lightly scraping over the bare flesh.

Dean's breath was quick and hot against his skin and Sam felt that he was drowning in sensation. He revelled in it, not knowing how long this gentle play would last before Dean's urgency took over. He turned in his brother's arms, pushing Dean back against the wall, kissing him hard. _Nothing to say I can't make a pre-emptive strike._ He drew his tongue along Dean's lower lip and thrust into his mouth when Dean opened to him.

Dean groaned, eyes closed, tongue dancing with Sam's his cock hardening. He growled when Sam nudged his legs apart and pressed his thigh between them.

"What do you want, Dean?" Sam's hand was between them, palming Dean's cock through his jeans.

"You know what I want," Dean said with a breathy moan, he pressed his hips forward seeking greater friction against Sam's hand.

Sam needed no further encouragement. He growled, pushing Dean hard against the wall and kissed him while his fingers worked the button and fly of Dean's pants. He slipped his hand inside and grabbed hold of Dean's cock. "Feel good, Dean?"

"Yeah, Sammy!" Dean's mouth hungrily attacked Sam's, tongues duelling, breath gusting hard and hot between them. "Stroke me," he whispered between kisses. He groaned, letting his head fall back against the wall as Sam stroked him, his hand moving slowly up and down the shaft.

"Slow and easy, Dean," Sam murmured, nuzzling gently against Dean's neck. "Gonna make it last for ya, gonna make it good."

"Huh!" Dean sobbed, thrusting into Sam's hand. "Don't think I _can_ last, Sam…" He swallowed hard. "So hot for you, babe!"

Sam changed his angle, loosening his hold on Dean's cock a little, giving a twist of his wrist to sweep his thumb across the tip of the straining member while he trailed kisses along Dean's jaw to his mouth.

"Oh, Fuck!" Dean said, and then muttered a string of filth against Sam's lips while his brother kissed him senseless.

"Want you to fuck me, Dean," Sam whispered. "Want to feel you inside me… want you to…" _Want you to feel alive, see you feel alive when we're like this, you feel this, Dean, that don't happen to dead people._

With a growl, Dean tore his mouth away and shoved Sam towards the bed. "Love it when you talk like that, Sammy." He watched, eyes wide and dark as Sam began to unfasten his belt. With a low growl, he stalked his brother, pushing him onto the bed and stripping him of jeans and boxers. "Get on your hands and knees," he said, his voice rough with need. "Close to the edge of the bed," he added and slipped two fingers into his mouth as Sam moved to comply. Dean sucked his fingers, making them good and wet and then laying one hand on Sam's hip; he pushed a finger into Sam's tight entrance, quickly adding the second.

Sam cried out with surprise and pain screwing his eyes shut, trying hard to relax. "Dean…slow down…please…" he bit down on his lip when the only reply was a growl and Dean pulled his fingers away, pressing the tip of his cock to Sam's ass in their place. He sobbed, clawing at the bed clothes unable to smother his cry when Dean shoved into him roughly. He was given the barest respite to catch his breath before his brother began to fuck him hard.

"So good, Sammy, so fucking _hot_!" Dean gripped Sam's hips, slamming into his brother's body repeatedly his fingers digging into him, fingernails biting into soft flesh. It was over in moments, Dean giving a strangled cry and burying himself deep in Sam's ass, filling him with the hot essence of his lust, the darkness draining from him with the strength of his orgasm, he collapsed onto the bed.

Sam moaned, moving to lie on his stomach when Dean pulled out of him. He palmed his own erection, realising there would be no release for him this night. He closed his eyes, rolling onto his side with his back to Dean. _He looks out for me…I'll…I'll do this for him. He…he needs me._

With an effort, Sam managed to roll over facing his brother. "Dean?"

"Huh?" Dean seemed to come back from somewhere far away; he blinked a few times then focussed his gaze on Sam's face.

"Feel better?" Sam brushed the backs of his fingers against Dean's face.

"Sam?" Dean struggled to sit up, staring at Sam's sweat dampened hair. He swallowed hard. "Sam…God I…look at you! What happened here?" He ghosted his fingers over the plain indentations of fingernails on Sam's hip. "Did…did I…oh fuck! Sam, I'm sorry."

"Hey...shhh."  Sam brushed his thumb over Dean's bottom lip "Nothin to be sorry for, felt good, right? I think it did." He smiled sleepily.

Dean lay down again and closed his eyes. _You're lying, Sammy._ Blindly reaching for Sam, he pulled him close. "I didn't want to hurt you anymore," he whispered brokenly. "I c-can't do this anymore, Sammy, I can't control it. I…I…" Despite his efforts to fight them back, the tears came this time and he couldn't do a thing about it. Burying his face against Sam's shoulder, Dean wept like a baby. "Sorry, Sammy...so sorry..."

Sam hitched closer to Dean. "I'm always gonna be here for you Dean, whatever it takes, I don't care...you look out for me...I can do this for you Dean. I can't explain it Bro, I feel stronger somehow when we do... It's like nothin' evil, here or in hell could be a match for us. It doesn't matter, you got that? I was just bein' plain stupid. Fuckin' girly like you said before. But I need you ok?"

"Shouldn't have to be this way, Sam." Dean's voice was a broken whisper. "I never used to be this way, not before ... not with..." He pulled away. "I don't want to hurt you."

Sam reached for his brother's hand and took it in his. "Don't you freak out on me now, Dean. We can do slow when slow is meant to be, ok? For now though I'm gonna keep you grounded any way I know how."

Dean nodded, closing his eyes to hide the fear and pain in them. He gripped Sam's hand tight. "Don't let it take me, Sam. Don't let me go." He whispered.

"I gotcha," Sam whispered. They lay still and quiet for awhile, until Dean had come down from his orgasmic high and then Sam stirred, he gently pulled away and got up, wincing a little, reaching for his shorts and jeans. "Hey, Dean, you wanna…go get a drink or somethin'?"

Dean frowned, his eyes going to the clock beside the bed. "A drink—now?"

Sam followed his brother's gaze. "I…uh shit I didn’t realise the time. I think I'll…I'll just go for a walk, okay?" Sam rummaged for a clean shirt and puts it on.

"A walk? It's the dead of night, Sammy, You know how stupid it would be for you to be out at this hour!"

"I just need some air, Dean. I won't go far," Sam replied.

  
Dean stared at his brother for a moment, and then relented with a sigh. "Okay, but take your phone, and the Glock…and if you don't haul your ass back here within the hour, I'm comin' after you, and you'd better have a damn good reason." 

"I'll be fine, Dean." Sam picked up his jacket and put it on, pocketing his cell and the gun Dean insisted he take.  He let himself out of the motel room into the chill night air, turning his steps towards an old church he'd spotted on their way to the motel. _Maybe, if dad traded his soul and the colt for Dean…maybe God will listen to me._  
  


_And every time I've held a rose  
_ _It seems I only felt the thorns  
_ _And so it goes, and so it goes  
_ _And so will you soon I suppose_

_But if my silence made you leave  
_ _Then that would be my worst mistake  
_ _So I will share this room with you  
_ _And you can have this heart to break_  
And So It Goes – Billy Joel

 

**Three Days Later, a motel near Ellen's Roadhouse**

Dean walked into the motel room, carrying a twelve pack of beer and singing off key. "Fell ohhhn, black days…fell on black daaaayhaaays!" 

"You're cheerful today," Sam said, looking up from where he sat, poring over John Winchester's journal.

"Hey, little bro. Why wouldn't I be cheerful? Got my car, Got my beer," he raised the beer before he stooped to put it into the refrigerator. And we've got us some downtime! Ash says there's nothing on the radar."

"Riiight, Sam said. _Who are you, and what have you done with Dean?_ Sam looked his brother over. _What new game is this, Dean?_

"You're suckin' lemons again, Sam." Dean hunkered down in front of the fridge and put the beer away, snagging a bottle for himself before he closed the door.

"Huh! Not many opportunities to suck anything _else_ lately." Sam said with a scowl. It had been days since he and Dean had done anything. Every time Sam tried to initiate something, Dean would fob him off with an excuse, or just flatly reject his advances. It was pissing Sam off. He scowled at Dean's grinning face and picked up the remote, flicking the TV on and scrolling through channels.

Dean shrugged, popping the beer and moving to flop himself down on the bed next to Sam. "What's on the tube?" He took a slug of his beer.

Sam flicked through a few channels and then stopped on channel 69. "Hard core porn," he said, "Wanna watch?"

Dean was in the middle of another slug of beer. He choked, spluttering and sat up "Shit!" He swiped at spilled beer on the front of his shirt. "No I _don't_ wanna watch porn," he said.

Sam cursed and threw the remote in his brother's lap. "You know what, watch whatever the fuck you want. I'm going out!"

"Hey what the hell's up with you?" Dean scowled at his brother's back as Sam stalked out of the room, slamming the door behind him. He put his beer down on the floor beside the bed and stared at the lurid images on the TV screen for a few minutes before he clicked the set off.

Sam muttered to himself as he walked out to Dean's car. The keys were in it. Sam glanced towards their room before he made a decision. He got behind the wheel and started the engine. _He's that good at playing it so fucking cool. So I messed up the other night, but he doesn't have to fucking cut me out completely._ Sam gunned the engine, heading towards the roadhouse, hoping to cool his temper there.

\--

The roadhouse was quiet in the mid afternoon. Ellen stood behind the bar, wiping glasses and singing along to Billy Joel on the jukebox. Ash was hiding away in his backroom, and Jo was off about her own pursuits. It was a time of day that Ellen enjoyed. Time to think and work quietly, to remember former days, and be alone with her thoughts.

She looked up when the door opened and Sam Winchester stepped into the bar.

"Hey, Ellen," Sam said. "Any chance of a drink around here?"

"Hi, Sam." Ellen raised an eyebrow. "Dean left here not ten minutes ago with a twelve-pack said he was taking it back to the motel to share with…" She trailed off as Sam's expression darkened. "I guess I can find a beer or two around here," she said.

She went to a cold case and took out two bottles, popping the lids off and handing one to Sam. "What's on your mind, Sam?"

"What?" Sam met her eyes. "Ah it's nothin' just some stuff goin' on between me and Dean. You know how it is with brothers."

"I know how it is with _most_ brothers," Ellen replied. She picked up her bottle and moved around the bar to sit on a stool next to Sam. "I get the feeling though that you and _your_ brother are a special case. Cheers!" She held her beer bottle out to him and they tapped the necks together.

"Ellen, most brothers haven't been huntin' the things under their beds since they were seven. Most brothers are out at college, cruisin' in their cars, gettin' laid." Sam took a gulp of his beer. "It’s no wonder we're…as you say, different."

Ellen studied Sam for a long moment, her eyes growing distant with memory. _I wonder if he even realises how like his father he is?  "_ I wasn't making any calls, Sam, just sayin..."

"Sorry, didn't mean to take you down, Ellen. It's just, Dean, you know he blows so freakin' hot and cold."

"Yeah, I know about that, Sam. I was married to a hunter, you know." She grinned at him.

Sam nodded. "Must've been tough, wonderin' if he was going to come home some nights?"

"It could be, if I let it." Ellen sighed. "Hunters, they don't think like other people. They don't see the world the same. They can't." She took another mouthful of her beer. "They see too much of what goes on in the dark and it gets inside them."

Sam stared into his drink. "I'm huntin' the same things he is. He doesn't need to shut me out. I get so tired, Ellen; one day he needs me and the next…" Freezes, suddenly realising who he is talking to and what he was about to spill. Glances at Ellen and draws his lips together in a thin line.

"And the next day, he's mister sunshine, king of the world, top of the heap and you're ..." Ellen reached to touch Sam on the shoulder. "Baby, I know what's going on with you two. Not much happens under my roof that I don't know it. I guess it comes with the territory."

Sam turned to Ellen, shocked, staring into her eyes. "Who else knows?"

Shrugging, Ellen took another pull at her beer. "Who else have you told?"

"No-one, it’s not something we would broadcast." Sam looked away turning his bottle round and round on the bar, watching as condensation ran off the bottle onto the counter-top. "But if you figured it out…"

"I don't think anyone around here would say anything, even if they'd guessed. I'm the widow of a hunter, Sam. I guess I recognize the signs when I see them in someone else."

Sam blushed, letting his eyelids fall over his eyes to conceal his feelings. "Dean'll kill me if he finds out that anyone knows. That I…talked to you."

"And just how is he goin' to find that out, honey?" Ellen quirked an eyebrow at Sam. "I've got no reason to want to see him hurt you."

Sam closed his fingers around the neck of his beer bottle, unconsciously white-knuckling it. "He gets this look in his eyes, Ellen, like when we're huntin' and he's inside himself fighting; just ready for the kill, you know? Then, as fast as it comes, it's gone and there's just this…sadness there instead. It kills me, but I don't know what to say—what to do." Sam closed his eyes.

Ellen listened in silence, thinking of all the times she has seen that same lost sadness in the eyes of the hunters who come to her roadhouse. She sighed softly and leaned an elbow on the bar, looking at Sam. "He doesn't want you to say anything, Sam. If he's anything like the man I think he is…Dean just wants…"

"Wants what?" Sam turned, staring intently into her eyes.

Meeting his eyes squarely, Ellen reached to put a hand on his shoulder. "He just wants you to _be_ there when he comes back to himself. He wants to know that there is still something worth fighting for. He wants to know that, just for today, he has kept the dark from touching you."

With a deep sigh, Sam put his bottle down on the bar and made to stand up. "I should…you know…" he glanced towards the door.

"Sam?" Ellen kept hold of his arm.

"Yeah?"

"I know it's hard, honey. I know it hurts when you feel like he is shutting himself away from you. The best thing you can do for him is just be what he wants to be. If he wants to laugh, laugh with him. If he wants a beer...have one...and when he wants to cry...and he _will_ then...do that, too."

"I'll try to remember that," Sam said. He moved towards the door and then turned back. "Ellen?"

She smiled at him.

"Thanks." Sam stepped out into the late afternoon sunshine.

Watching him leave, Ellen drew a long breath, letting it out on a sigh. _They'll be okay, those two._  She glanced up as Jo walked into the bar from out-back. _I only hope it doesn't break her heart when she figures it out._

\--

Sam hesitated outside the motel room, biting his lip, wondering if Dean was going to be pissed with him for taking the car without saying anything. He drew a deep breath, deciding that he would face whatever his brother wanted to throw at him and opened the door.

Dean was sprawled face down on the bed, apparently sleeping. Sam put the keys on the table and headed into the bathroom. He started the shower running, and slid down to sit with his back against the wall, zoning out as the room filled with steam.

\--

Dean rolled onto his back and used the sleeve of his shirt to scrub away traces of the storm of tears that had taken him into a fitful sleep. The sound of water running in the bathroom had wakened him from his doze. He lifted his head from the pillow. "That you, Sam?"

There was no response. Dean got up off the bed, scrubbing at his face again. _Bawling like a fucking baby…oughta be ashamed!_  Dean walked to the bathroom door, taking in the sight of Sam hunched on the floor, his head resting on drawn up knees. The air was thick with steam.

"Management won't be happy with you, if you use up all the hot water, dude."

Sam started and looked up. "No, I s'pose not." He started to pull off his shoes and socks.

"Are you…You're…okay, right?" Dean averted his eyes when Sam pulled his shirt off over his head and began to unbutton his jeans.

"I'm fine, Dean. Just took me a while to get to sleep last night. After I have a shower, I'm getting an early night."

"Uh, okay, I'll leave ya to it, then." Dean moved back from the door as Sam got into the shower, but edged back again a moment later. _How is it that he can even make water look sexy?_

Sam glanced over his shoulder at Dean. "Stall's big enough for both of us.  We could both use and early night, and we could get out on the road early tomorrow. Watch yourself getting in. I just burned my ass…waters a little warm."

"No way, Dude. I'm not gettin' in there with you," Dean replied. "Everyone knows you fart in the shower!"

Sam chuckled. "That's not as bad as what you used to do when we were kids!"

"Hey, every kid does _that!_ At least I never peed in the pool!" Dean countered. He watched as Sam ducked his head under the water, soaking his hair.

"Every kid does that, too," Sam said as he surfaced. "And at least it was a big pool, not a little bathtub." He picked up the soap, rubbing it awkwardly over his face, one handed. He rubbed lather into his hair and then slipped under the water again to rinse off.

The pain hit Sam unawares, as it always did, searing white-hot pain behind his eyes, made him intake a breath, gulping water and flying into a flat panic. He flailed, groping blindly for shower door as images began to flash rapid-fire through his mind.

"Sam," Dean jumped back as water splashed, landing on the toe of his boot. "If ya got soap in your eyes, just rinse it out!"

"Gaaah!" Sam staggered out of the shower clutching his temples.. "Dean!"

_The young redhead was walking along a deserted track, her hair glinting with chestnut lights in the fading glow of sunset. She carried a knapsack on her shoulders and held a bottle of water in her hand._

_A dark shape lurked in the shadows behind her, but the girl didn't seem to notice._ Sam's heart began to race. He could sense the danger that the girl didn't seem to notice.

"Sam?" Dean watched his brother for a moment before realisation sunk in. "Oh fuck! I've seen this before!" He was at Sam’s side in a moment, grabbing for Sam's arms. "I gotcha, bro. What's happening?"

Sam shook his head, eyes closed. He let his brother take the weight of his arms, caught in the vision.

_There was a sound of movement from the roadside and the girl paused, looking around. "Hello?" She took a step towards the dark shadow Sam could see lurking not far ahead of her. "Who's there?"_

_The shadows seemed to shift, moving with fluid speed and grace. Sam saw the girl's eyes go wide. She screamed and flung up an arm in a defensive motion but she was too late. There was an unholy sound, the girl shrieked, blood erupting from deep claw marks that appeared on her face and throat. She drew one last, gurgling breath and was still._

"Oh fuck!" Sam's gut heaved and he swallowed convulsively.

"What was it, Sam? What'd you see?" Dean reached for a towel, helping Sam to his feet. "C'mon, let's get you out of this. You don't wanna get chilled."

"A girl, I saw a girl," Sam panted. "Something hit her…oh Christ, Dean, it ripped her apart." He gasped, pressing fingers to his temples, sobbing.

"Something? What, what a demon?" Dean began to rub Sam's trembling form with the towel. "Where, when?"

"I...I don't know." Sam shook his head. "It was coming on dark, there was nothin' to give me a clue where it was. Oh fuck, Dean, she could be already dead, for all the use I am!" Sam closed his eyes, shivering with the effect of his vision.

"Don't talk like that." Dean said, rubbing the towel over Sam's skin, pausing a moment when he saw bruises on Sam's hip. "You just need time; something else might come to you." He ghosted his fingers over the bruises. _God, Sammy. I...I never meant to hurt you._

Sam swayed on his feet. "There's a lot of energy, Dean. I could feel it."

Dean nodded and took hold of Sam's arm. "Okay, come on in here," he led Sam through to the bedroom. _Could be that bastard showing his fugly face at last…I hope to hell it is._ "Here, sit on the bed, I'll get you some clean clothes." Dean made to stand up but Sam's fingers dug into his forearm.

"No. No, Dean, stay with me. He shuddered. "You should have seen her, Dean…the look on her face an instant before…" Gagging, Sam looked away.

"Sammy, you're gonna get your death! Get into bed at least. I'm not going anywhere, I just wanna get you warm." Dean glanced at Sam's injured arm. "I think the cast got wet, too," he said.

"Stay with me, Dean." Sam got into bed, pulling Dean with him.

"Okay, I'm here," Dean said, pulling Sam into his arms and settling his brother's head on his chest. "I gotcha." He listened as Sam's breathing settled and slowed, feeling the lean frame relax against him. Dean closed his eyes, pushing the mild sense of arousal that stirred to the back of his mind. _I'm not touching him like that again. I won't let that bastard get to him through me._ He closed his eyes, but they snapped open a moment later when Sam grazed his lips across the base of Dean's throat.

 _It's gonna be a long night._ Dean thought as he felt his brother relax into a deep slumber.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Please comment. I love to read them, and I always reply.


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